


Day 14: Gingerbread

by Sang_argente



Series: 25 Days of Fic [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pre-Slash, of a sort, vague first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sang_argente/pseuds/Sang_argente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the Hell is that?”</p><p>“It's a gingerbread house.”</p><p>“Uh...huh...” Stiles said slowly, turning back to the...thing. It did sort of look like a house, if he closed one eye completely and turned away a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 14: Gingerbread

Stiles stared at the monstrosity in front of him. Tilting his head from side to side, narrowing and widening his eyes, nothing helped him get an idea of exactly what it was. He turned to look at Scott, frowning.

“What the Hell is that?”

A little of the excitement dimmed in Scott's eyes. “It's a gingerbread house.”

“Uh...huh...” Stiles said slowly, turning back to the...thing. It did sort of look like a house, if he closed one eye completely and turned away a little. Face on, it just looked liked a frosting covered pile of bricks. “What's it for?”

“It's for Kira,” Scott explained, moving away from the gingerbread house and over to the cabinet. He opened the doors and started to look for something, still talking. “We decided our relationship is too new for buying each other gifts. Instead we're making them.”

“Well, you know Christmas isn't for another week or so,” Stiles offered. “Maybe you could keep trying? At least until it actually looks like a house. It doesn't even have to be edible.”

Scott grimaced and nodded like he always did when Stiles was right. “I'd like it to be but, man, this is the third try already and it's just not working.”

Caving under Scott's disheartened gaze, Stiles sighed and said, “Don't worry about it. I'm sure there's a good recipe somewhere. I'll make the pieces and you can put it together. That way, it's still you doing most of the work.”

“Yeah?” Scott smiled brightly, setting down the large cake stand he had pulled out of the cabinet. “That would be great, buddy. Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Stiles said, still staring at the mess of frosting and gingerbread. “No problem at all.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

“-- so I was just wondering if we had anything like that?”

Stiles waited patiently as his dad tried to come up with an answer for him. He was used to having to wait as his dad recovered from a fast and loud explanation of all the messes he and Scott had gotten into throughout the years. This was just another in a long line.

“I don't think so,” Stiles's dad said, shaking his head slowly. “You know your mom was the baker, though. If there's anything, it'll be upstairs.”

“Fantastic,” Stiles drawled, not very eager to spend his afternoon in a dusty attic. It was his least favorite part of the house, mainly because it held all the memories of his mother, but partially because it was a mess. He had promised Scott, though, so he'd do it even if he didn't like it.

Clapping a hand down on his shoulder, his dad gave him a mischievous grin and said, “Maybe you could straighten up the place a little while you're up there.”

Stiles snorted and shook off the hand, turning to go upstairs. “Yeah, I don't think so.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Stiles called, hopping up the stairs two at a time until he came to the chipped door that lead to the attic. He sighed heavily and pushed the door open. “Here we go.”

Taking careful steps around towering stacks of boxes, he made his way to the far wall where he remembered last seeing his mother's kitchen things. He was certain that her recipe books would be among them.

Ten minutes later, he was proven right when he came across a heavy leather bound journal, a gold plate reading recipes in curling script.

“Jackpot,” he murmured, flipping open the front cover to find a contents list. He scanned the list and, after a few seconds of deliberation, flipped to the cookies section. Flipping through the pages slowly, not wanting to miss the recipe he was looking for, he didn't miss a loose piece of paper sliding out of the book.

Frowning at the creased and smudged paper, he stretched to pick it up. When he saw the words at the top, he gasped and nearly dropped it.

_Talia's Gingerbread_

Seriously? What was Stiles supposed to do with this? It was just like any other time he had learned something new about the Hales. He had information that he couldn't share for fear of crossing some sort of invisible relationship line.

But...

He _could_ share some of the result of that information. How long had it been since Derek and Peter had tasted Talia's gingerbread? If he managed to do the recipe justice, it could be the best gift they would get this year. And he didn't even need to _give_ it to them, really. He could just...leave it on their doorstep.

Scanning the recipe, he frowned at the long list of ingredients. There was no way they had even half this stuff.

“Dad,” Stiles called, running down the stairs. “I'm going out to the store. Be back later!”

-x-x-x-x-x-

“There,” Stiles said, satisfaction warming him from the inside out. He'd spent hours at Scott's, measuring and mixing and baking. There had been the templates for Scott's gingerbread house, of course, but he'd decided to make traditional gingerbread men for Derek and Peter. There had been notes all over Talia's recipe, various corrections and notations about the family's likes and dislikes when it came to gingerbread. Thankfully, Derek and Peter seemed to share similar tastes.

“Wow, Stiles,” Scott whistled, looking away from his assembled house to see a good sized collection of gingerbread men spanning the counter. “Those look great. Who are they for?”

Stiles blushed faintly and waved a hand around nervously. “Oh, you know. People.”

Scott's eyes narrowed at the familiar heartbeat ratcheting up. “Anyone I know?”

“Sure,” Stiles said breezily, turning to pack away the cookies and clean up his mess. “Seeing as you know practically everyone in town.”

“Very funny. You know what I meant.”

“Alright, yes!” Stiles cracked, feeling Scott's heavy gaze on the back of his neck. “They're for Derek and Peter. It's a recipe of Talia's that my mom borrowed or something. I just thought they might like it.”

“I can see that,” Scott said, nodding thoughtfully. He scrunched his nose in confusion. “But why Peter? He's an ass.”

Stiles's cheeks reddened further, his ears burning.

“Oh,” Scott breathed. He watched as Stiles stilled completely. “ _Oh._ ”

Turning away from the packaged cookies, Stiles brought his hands up and shrugged helplessly. “I didn't _mean_ to. It just happened!”

“Hey, hey!” Scott walked over to grab Stiles by the arms and shook him lightly. “Stiles, it's okay! I mean, there's no accounting for taste, but seriously. It's fine.”

“He doesn't even- he wouldn't-”

Pulling his friend close, Scott hugged Stiles tightly, pressing their chests together so Stiles could feel each gentle inhale and exhale. It was a proven prevention for panic attacks and, hey, who didn't like hugs?

Peter, probably, Scott thought ruefully, but tried to shove it away.

“There,” he said quietly, pulling away only when he was sure Stiles had everything under control again. “Why don't you go to Derek's and give them the cookies? I need to get to Kira's anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles choked out, breathing shakily but seemingly good. “Thanks, bro. I'll text you.”

And several hours later, when Scott was laying in bed thinking about the adorable look on Kira's face when he had presented her with the gingerbread house, his phone chimed. Rolling over to check it, he grinned at Stiles's message.

_Success. Don't freak when you smell me tomorrow. -s_

**Author's Note:**

> 25 Days of Fic prompts are closed but daily prompts (any pairing/fandom/theme) are open [here.](http://stilesthesasswolf.tumblr.com)


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